


Drunken Dalliences in Dark Doorways

by mythtress



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 08:15:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2341355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythtress/pseuds/mythtress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Curiosity gets the best of Garak as he follows a pair from Quark's bar</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drunken Dalliences in Dark Doorways

The heavy clunk of the Kanar bottle was lost amidst the multitude of chatter and glassware in Quark's bar. The container had been set down none to gently by the resident tailor of Deep Space 9. A deep scowl marred his regularly pleasant, neutral features. He starred, eyes intent on a figure perched precariously on the railing on the establishments second floor. He brought the glass to his lips without looking away, sipping the spicy concoction with a sneer. The figure's shoulder's shook with laughter, a shameless display, as the spring wine held in his hand sloshed about. Next to him stood a muscular man, leaning against the bulkhead, a smile on his supple lips, kanar in hand. Garak's grip tightened like a vice around the glass as he seethed, teeth grinding in rage at the man on the railing.

Quark was making the rounds at the bar. He came to inquire about another bottle for the tailor but tossed that notion aside when he saw the look on the Cardassian's face. He took note of where the glare was directed. Picking up the empty bottle and setting it behind the counter he added, "You break it, you buy it." The tailor's angry blue eyes flicked to him before returning to their previous target. He released the glass, feeling slighted that it was not the Gul's neck. "Could he be any more blatant?" Garak grated out between his teeth.

Quark glanced at the pair again. To any observer it would have appeared as a friendly conversation. As was the case with Cardassian's, one had to read a little deeper, including body language, to understand what was really being said. The second tongue of subtle head tilts and hand posing. The couple had drunk enough to cause these usually minute movements to become quite obvious to anyone with even miniscule knowledge of the non verbal ques.

The way the Gul's head tilted to the right, his left shoulder angled upwards indicators of physical attraction and interest in the speaker. The Glinn, who was standing, had his neck craned forward, displaying masculinity and arousal. It was almost painfully obvious that the pair were on more than friendly terms and were gearing up to enjoy the benefits of their 'working' relationship.

"I would say yes, he could be. I wouldn't put anything past him."

Garak made a disgruntled huff and downed his drink. "Acting like hormone addled adolescents. Disgraceful."

Quark opened his mouth to reply then thought better of it. Were he an imbecile, like his brother, he would have said that Garak was angry not at the way the Gul was acting but that his blatant actions, more often then not, got him what he wanted. Companionship, conversation, and a warm body in his bed. Meanwhile the object of Garak's affection was completely ignorant or didn't reciprocate. Either explanation left Garak alone and cold in an empty bed night after night. Quark considered this as he polished a glass. Breathing even a word of this would be like prodding a sleeping Ragnar, who had been drinking. Having a broken neck would severely cut into his profit margin and Quark had learned a long time ago that removing himself from any affair involving the Gul was in his best interest. 

The Ferengi excused himself, moving to help another customer at the bar. Garak paid him little heed as he continued to glare at the seated figure's armored back, willing him to loose his balance and fall. The fall wouldn't kill him but it would certainly hurt. Alas his little fantasy was not to be realized as the pair decided it was time to go and stumbled out of the bar. Garak kept to the crowds and followed them onto the promenade. When the two had made it to the corridor of docking ring 3, Garak had taken to weaving in and out of the shadows. The station's night cycle lighting played to his advantage as he followed and observed, unnoticed by the inebriated pair. 

They had been talking quietly with each other after leaving the promenade. To low for Garak to hear at the distance he was maintaining. They kept bumping into one another which sent them into fits of laughter. Garak rolled his eyes in exasperation at the juvenile behavior. He ducked behind a bulk head when the tall slim figure suddenly darted in front of the other man and pulled him by the collar of his armor into a shadowy corner of the corridor. Garak slipped close enough to hear an exchange of words.

"Do me, here, now." Though laced with amusement it was still issued as a command.

"Here? In the open?" The Glinn still had some semblance of wits about him it seemed.

A deep chuckle, "No, here in the corner." The answer made them both laugh. 

Garak's eyes went wide as he realized to late the position he had put himself in. Moving so close to hear and see some of what was going on also meant he couldn't leave the area without being spotted. He'd have to wait until the pair moved on. Perhaps decency would win out and they would retire to the bird of prey docked not 10 yards away

"I'm bored of quarters..."

"and the bridge, and the armory, and..." 

"The armory didn't count. Neither of us finished." The man's composure was all but gone.

Garak pressed himself as close to the wall as possible as the Glinn turned to scan the corridor before moving to grope the man in front of him. There was a loud moan, then a hand clapped over the Gul's mouth. He was shocked when the man didn't hit his subordinate. A knee pressed between his thighs caused him to shift back and forth against the wall. 

"Stay quiet or I'll stop, understand." 

Garak was certain that the Gul wouldn't allow that kind of tone from his second officer. Much to his amazement the man nodded into the hand as one of the Glinn's hands moved to stroke the Gul's impressive neck.

"Face the wall, hands out." The Glinn moved back far enough to allow the other man to turn. The Gul positioned himself as he had been instructed. 

Garak felt a shudder of excitement run through him. He should turn away, it would be the decent thing to do in this situation. He also regretting not having a recording device on him. He heard the low rumble from the Gul's chest as the Glinn messaged at his neck. A hushed warning to be quiet then the Glinn was mouthing at the scales. Garak's stomach tightened at the memory of what that felt like. Scales flushed with blood, tasting the warmth, feeling the quickening pulse against his lips. It had been a long time since he had had the pleasure or the privilege.

"What if someone hears you, hm? What if someone found us like this?" Those were genuine concerns being voiced but the Glinn continued with what he was doing disregarding his apparent grasp of the situation. In response to these inquires the Gul bent and rubbed his rear into the Glinn's groin. Positively shameless...all be it arousing. The man chuckled and bit into the scale he had been teasing with his tongue. The Gul had a hard time keeping silent, using his own hand to cover his mouth this time. 

"Always in the way this armor." The Glinn commented unbuckling a few fasteners and shifting the weight off center. His hand snaked down into the Gul's pants. If Garak was discerning the movements correctly through the tight fabric. Fingers were no doubt dipping in and out of the slit, rubbing along the sensitive scales there. A flush of arousal spread through him. He hadn't been touched like that in a very long time.  
The Glinn had removed his hand and was adjusting his own armor. The Gul shifted back and forth impatiently. A slap was heard as the Gul received a smack on the rump. 

"Be still." His movements ceased with a low whine. Garak smirked. Their pants were pulled down to their knees. The Glinn kneaded the Gul's posterior, eliciting a groan of pleasure. He continued to grope as his other hand moved to the Gul's front and began to probe at his slit. The man arched back and whimpered as he everted into the other man's waiting hand. He pumped the shaft, smiling at the Gul's rapidly failing ability to remain quiet. The Glinn brought his own member out with a few well placed fingers and slid his slick shaft between the Gul's cheeks. The man visibly trembled. 

Garaks' fists were balled so tightly into the seam of his tunic, the fabric wouldn't be able to take much more abuse before it tore. He bit at his lower lip. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips and sipping the air. It was laden with musky arousal, the pheromones combined with watching the act was doing a number on his normally rock solid composure. 

Between the two there was more than enough lubrication. The Glinn's fingers were nearly dripping as he eased one into the Gul's entrance. The man tensed at the intrusion but relaxed as a strong hand messaged his neck. The digit was worked in slowly then a second was added and the two fingers began to scissor. The Gul sighed and moaned, trying to remain quiet by biting into a knuckle. True to his word the Glinn stopped and grasped the Gul's neck ridge. "Since you lack the ability to remain quiet, why don't you tell me what you want." The Gul growled a warning and eased back trying to get the other man to continue. The Glinn pulled his fingers away, causing the Gul to groan in frustration. 

"Damar." His voice was low, an edge of danger to it. "If you don't fuck me right now, I swear to make you pay." 

As the Gul issued this warning the Glinn's hands found an anchor on the man's hip ridges and pulled him back as he pushed forward into him. The Gul's breath hitched, and his legs trembled.

"Like this, Sir?" The title had a playful note of sarcasm to it. There was a low growl in the Gul's throat as he rocked forward only to be pulled back by the Glinn's sure grip. 

"Yes." He hissed, again rocking forward and sighing as he was again pulled back. The Glinn set them into a steady rhythm before moving to take hold of the Gul's throbbing member. The Gul rested his head on his left forearm, which now supported his weight on the wall. The pace quickened as the Glinn took hold of the Gul's right elbow and used the leverage to thrust deeper. All the warnings about keeping quiet were forgotten as the corridor filled with the sound of the their mingled panting and moaning.

The noise was certainly affecting the tailor, as he shifted, neck aching, stomach tight and warm. 

The Glinn released his hold on both the Gul's arm and shaft as he gripped the man's hips and found his completion, flooding his superiors insides. The Gul let out a gasp as the Glinn pulled out and spun him around before roughly shoving him into the wall. Dropping to a knee the Glinn took him in his mouth. The sounds of sucking and the way his tongue lapped around the sensitive flesh caused Garak to bite his hand in frustration.

A deep rumble reverberated up through the Gul's chest as he climaxed. The Glinn gave an appreciative moan as he swallowed. He stood, grinning, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. The Gul panted, "I'll get you back for that."

"I look forward to it, Sir." He pulled up his pants and fixed his armor. He moved to assist the other man but the Gul growled, clutched the man's jaw between his fingers and pulled him into a harsh kiss. They pulled apart, breathing unsteady. The Gul adjusted himself before taking the second officer by the wrist and dragging him out of the corner towards the docked ship. 

"I'm ordering you confined to quarters tonight."

"Your quarters, Sir?" came the cheeky reply as the Glinn gave little resistance at being tugged through the docking bay door. The Gul's laughter echoed down the nearly empty corridor.

Garak stepped out of his hiding spot. Instinctively reaching for his swollen neck ridges. The scales felt like they were on fire, so flushed and pumped with blood. No doubt they were charcoal in coloration with his current state of arousal. He made a B line back to his quarters in urgent need of relief, avoiding any and all areas that might have foot traffic at this time of night. He didn't need the added embarrassment of someone seeing him like this. When he returned to the solitude of his quarters, the door closing behind him, he leaned heavily against it. He threw his head back and began laughing at the absurdity of what he had witnessed. 

The military literally fornicating itself into a corner. Perfect. 

He'd make sure to have a recording device on his person the next time.


End file.
